


Corset Doll

by ClumsyDreamer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Bellamione Cult War, Bellatrix is good with her hands, Bellatrix takes her job seriously, Discord: Bellamione Cult, Don't accept gifts from strangers, F/F, F/M, Malfoy Manor is a shop, Narcissa is a bully to her sister, Narcissa is a witch, Smut, Team Divinity, Two Shot, corsets, doll!Bellatrix, halloween fic, muggle!Hermione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2020-11-28 10:37:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20965166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClumsyDreamer/pseuds/ClumsyDreamer
Summary: While searching for a wedding gift for their occult loving friend Ginny, Luna and Hermione come across Malfoy Manor- an occult store run by the mysterious Narcissa Malfoy. It's clear that many of the objects are the run of the mill gag gifts, but all is not normal in this little shop. From potion bottles with no active ingredients to suspiciously wet books with mouths- Hermione thinks there's something off about the store she walked into.But it's not til she leaves with a porcelain doll named Bellatrix does she realize how right her suspicions were...





	1. Corset Doll: Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo, while my brain tries to work around the writer's block for Sing to Me Your Insanity, I have started a short two shot to clear the gutters. A quick to the point, diet-spook, read that was fluttering about my head. Enjoy! XD

_ **Corset Dolls: Part 1** _

* * *

A cold autumn breeze ruffled the curls draped around her head. Hermione adjusted her hat and moved her hair out of her face, a useless endeavor seeing as the wind pushed it right back to where it once was. She huffed.

“Should’ve brought a scrunchie.” She muttered darkly.

“Would you like to stop and buy one? We’re already out shopping.” Her companion asked upon hearing her complaints.

Hermione envied how tamed and straight Luna’s blonde hair was. Far tamer to handle than her own and she was sure that the woman didn’t spend a fortune on combs that couldn’t hold up to the unbridled power of thick hair. Still, despite her resentment, Hermione knew that she wouldn’t change her curls for anything. She gave the shorter girl a wide smile and looped their arms together. “It’s alright. I have a ton at home. Besides, we’re looking for a gift for Ginny and who knows how long that’s going to take.”

Luna laughed, the sound like the tinkling of a champagne flute. “It’ll be fine Hermione. We’ll just look around till something catches our eye.”

They did just that.

The two women walked the streets of London with cold hands and warm hearts, chatting softly to one another as they searched about for something Ginny might like for her upcoming wedding. It shouldn’t be that hard. They knew some things she’d might be interested in. Sports merch was obvious; she was the number one fan of what was probably the most famous rugby team in the world, the Chudley Cannons. Everyone knew of the woman’s obsession…which also meant that everyone was no doubt thinking the same thing.

No, merch wasn’t the way to go.

They also ruled out about a dozen other things right off the bat. Hermione groaned. Why did this have to be so hard? They should just get them a set of good china and be done with it. ‘

“Oh, look here!” Luna interrupted, breaking her from her inner thoughts and drawing her attention to a store they were just moments away from passing. “This looks promising.” The lady laughed, jumping up and down as she gazed at the items sitting in the windowfront.

“You might be right. I completely forgot about that.” Hermione murmured, rubbing her hands together as the cold surrounding them began seeping even deeper into her pale flesh.

Though everyone knew of Ginny’s love for her favorite rugby team; only her closest friends knew of her secret obsession right behind it.

The occult.

It started as all enjoyments did. One day, Mrs. Weasley brought home an old box of stuff from her deceased aunt, laying it all out before the children and giving them the first pick of whatever was inside. Her aunt had been a weird woman, the things she collected usually being over the top or even supernatural in nature. One such thing was a Ouija board. The boys avoided it like the plague, none of them interesting in something so boring and mundane when there were so many other cool things in the pile around them.

All except little Ginny.

Too small to push her older brothers out of the way, Ginny was essentially left to rifle through the scraps. She didn’t mind seeing as that’s usually how things went, with them being poor and all. Ginny was able to take her time and sort out through their aunt’s possessions without having to rush. When she eventually stumbled upon the Ouija board the girl was a mixture of excited and apprehensive. There were some girls at school who used to talk about Ouija boards and witches; going on and on about how they tried playing Bloody Mary in their bathrooms during sleepovers and actually _saw_ the girl appear.

Ginny didn’t believe them.

Well, she didn’t really believe in a lot of things, including ghosts, but she was still curious by nature and wanted to try regardless.

It started with the Ouija board from her deceased aunt, but that’s not where her obsession ended.

The more she learned about the occult, the deeper she went into practicing it. Soon she was checking out books from the library about magic spells and buying crystals off street merchants who claimed that they could make her wealthy or dull her Weasley freckles to something a bit more desirable.

They never did, but she wasn’t expecting them to.

Ginny was just looking for a bit of fun.

That being said, witchcraft wasn’t exactly something a lot of people talked about in social circles. The only ones who knew were their little friend group and of course her soon to be husband, Harry. Hermione always thought it was a bit lonely to not be able to share the things you loved because someone might judge you. Hermione wasn’t into the practice like her red headed friend, but she wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was definitely interested. It also gave her an excuse to read more books.

Maybe there would be some inside this store. It wouldn’t hurt to look while they found a gift for Ginny while they were at it.

She tugged Luna forward. “Let’s take a look.” And proceeded to open the heavy black door with an eerie creek.

Somehow, a breeze colder than the autumn air outside blew past them from within. The duo huddled together and walked inside, only Hermione jumping when the door slammed closed behind them. She looked at Luna who was giving her a meek smile.

“It’s definitely creepy.” She said quietly. “I wonder if anyone is working here.”

“I am.”

Both women screamed when a soft, aristocratic voice spoke up behind them. They spun around to see who spoke.

The woman was older than them clearly, but there was a youthful beauty about her that made her seem younger. Blonde hair hung around her shoulders, which wasn’t strange in Hermione’s eyes, but there appeared to be a rebellion happening at the top of the woman’s head. Instead of blonde, her hair was dark brown and pulled to the back of her head with an elaborate looking hairpin. It was strange, but the young woman figured you didn’t work in a occult shop without being a little different.

When the two settled down after their impromptu scare, the woman gave them a small smile, crystal blue eyes sparkling as she took in their appearance. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I thought you saw me standing by the door when you came in. My name is Narcissa. I’m the owner of Malfoy Manor; home to the unknown and unread tomes. How may I help you two ladies?”

Her voice was soft and inviting; the exact opposite of the woman’s attire of long black robes and sharp silver accessories. It made them relax, and Hermione- being the braver of the two- spoke up. “We’re looking for a present for our friend. She loves the occult and we saw your shop and thought we might be able to find something here.” She answered.

Narcissa swept away to the register and reached beneath it. There was a click and suddenly the low lights of the room grew a bit brighter. “Apologies. I usually keep the lights dim when there aren’t any customers. Saves on the bills. Please, have a look around. If anything catches your eyes, I’ll be more than happy to assist you.”

“Thank you, madam.” Luna said, giving a small curtsy before pulling Hermione away. She snickered beneath her breath. Luna really just did as she pleased. Though she let it go this time. Narcissa seemed the highborn type. Polite and able to carry herself with her head held high and confidence in her step. Hermione probably would’ve done the same if she didn’t think it would embarrass the ever living daylights out of her. She shook the thought from her mind and followed Luna deeper into the shop.

It was surprisingly large. From the outside, no one would’ve guessed that such place could be so large on the inside. All around them were candles and crystals and bottles of all shapes and sizes. Hermione grabbed a bottle from a nearby table. It was shaped like a heart, the words ‘Potion of Eternal Love’ was scrawled across the front in a beautiful gold script. She turned the bottle around, reading the description of how a couple of drops of it can make the drinker fall in love with you. It was a nice thought, perhaps she and Ron wouldn’t have broken up if she had something like this. Then again, she knew it wouldn’t have changed much. Not because she wouldn’t want to use it, but there was something about reading the active ingredients and seeing ginkgo biloba, high fructose corn syrup, and red 40 that made her think that love wouldn’t last very long.

She set it back down on the table holding a dozen other potion bottles of varying sizes and shapes. It was fun to pick through them, guessing what each one supposedly did before she read the description and active ingredients. There seemed to be a potion for everything. Ones for calming and ones for good luck. There were two that claimed to re-grow broken bones and a third one that claimed to break them. She had even come across a few strange ones in an already strange bunch. Something called a ‘Polyjuice’ potion could make you look like someone else if you added a piece of a person’s hair to the mixture. She also found a copycat love potion of the first one she picked up called ‘Amortentia’. It did the same thing, though she noted that this was a bit more honest and claimed that the effects wasn’t really true love.

She could appreciate that at least.

Hermione put it back though. The two bottles didn’t sit well with her for some reason. She wasn’t one to trust anything that didn’t have any active ingredients or other tells of what it was aside from what it supposedly did.

It was time to move on.

Out on the other side of the store, she could see Luna fiddling with some charms as Narcissa stood by her side and told of what they supposedly did. That was fine, she had plenty more of the store that she wanted to explore first.

Beyond the potion tables began a section for books. Most seemed normal enough, but much like the table of potions, a few stuck out more than others. A huge black book titled ‘The Dark Lord’ was so heavy that no matter how much Hermione tried, she couldn’t lift it even a little bit off the table. It was also weird that there was a huge lock on the side of it keeping her from looking inside. She left it alone.

Another book had an elaborately drawn mouth on it. It was so realistic. From the large yellow teeth to the glistening effect of wetness on its lopping tongue. Hermione went to touch it.

“Ew!” She hissed, wiping her hand off on the side of her jeans.

The glistening on the teeth wasn’t just for effect it seemed. The woman was too grossed out to investigate any further.

Hermione kept searching. Tons of things had caught her eye, but nothing that seemed like a thing Ginny would absolutely love for her wedding. She sighed. “This is why I hate shopping for other people. Why is this so hard? Maybe I’ll go see what Luna found.” She turned to head over to her friend.

“_Hehehehe_.”

“Huh?” Hermione stopped in her tracks and turned around. “What was that? Could’ve sworn someone just laughed.”

It had come from the opposite direction of where the two other women were standing.

“_Hehehehe_.”

“Okay, I didn’t imagine it that time. Hello?” She called.

The sound had been coming from the back of the store, past the last row of bookshelves where she had yet to head towards. Peeking over her shoulders, she saw Luna by herself at the register. She wondered where-

“Is something wrong?”

She screeched, turning to find Narcissa standing behind her. The older woman laughed and approached her, the same smile from earlier marring her face. “I’m sorry again. You don’t seem like the type to scare easily, given the store you decided to enter.”

Hermione chuckled nervously. “I’m usually not. You’re just really quiet.”

“My sisters have said the same about me many a time. I came over to check on you. You seem…distracted?” The woman asked.

She thought about not saying anything about what she heard, but her curiosity got the best of her. “I thought I heard someone laughing from over there.” She pointed beyond the rows and rows of books.

Narcissa’s face pulled down into a frown. “Laughing you say? Must’ve been that doll again.”

“Doll?” Hermione asked.

“Would you like to see? It’ll only take a moment.” Narcissa gestured towards the back of the store.

She shouldn’t have agreed. Perhaps then things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did later on.

“What could it hurt?” Came her hesitant answer.

“Very well. Follow me.”

They walked side by side. Hermione said little as the woman guided her past scrolls and books of all shapes and sizes towards their goal. When the shelves stopped and they reached the back wall, Hermione was greeted with a row of shelves stacked high with more books.

Though they weren’t the only things occupying the shelves.

Higher up- on a shelf far out of her or any other customer’s reach- was a long row of porcelain dolls. They were beautiful. Maybe only a few feet tall, they sat in varying positions. Some sat with legs spread apart while others were crossed at the knee. There were both male and female dolls, all of them sporting elaborate clothing and hair that seemed to only ever be blonde or black. That was strange, but she paid it no mind. All of them sat tall and proper, eyes straight ahead as they looked at the bookshelves in front of them.

…except for one.

She sat at the end of the row, her black corset dress flowing around her delicately as she crossed one boot clad leg over the other. Her pale hands were resting on top of her legs. Black curls fell past their shoulders and Hermione wondered if they were as soft as they looked. What drew Hermione’s attention more than anything though, was the doll’s face.

She was pale.

She was beautiful.

And she was grinning down at Hermione with completely blacked out eyes.

If Narcissa wasn’t standing next to her, she probably would’ve screamed. There was something off with that doll. None of the others were smiling, their expressions all pulled down into a neutral, blank smile. Their heads were also stuck staring straight. The strange one wasn’t. She couldn’t even mistake that the things eyes weren’t looking at her. It could be staring at anything. There was no distinction between sclera and pupil, it was all black like those full contacts she saw actors wear in supernatural movies. No, Hermione knew it was looking because it’s neck was craning to see around the much larger doll sitting beside it. Had it been sitting like the others, Hermione might not have even noticed it.

It was like it _wanted _to be seen.

Her eyes flicked up to Narcissa who was looking at the doll as well. Hermione would’ve thought nothing of it, had the woman not been smirking up at the doll in question, something strange lurking behind her eyes at seeing it high up there on the shelf. The smirk turned to a smile when she glanced back Hermione.

“Those are ‘The Family’. Dolls made in the likeness of someone from my family. Cousins, grandparents…_sisters_. They’re kept here til someone chooses to take them home.” Naricssa explained. The store owner left for a moment and came back with a sliding ladder which she leaned against the bookshelf, pushing it to the far corner of wall. She climbed, talking to Hermione all the while. “My ancestors made many of these, but doll making is a trade that runs in the family. I was the only one out of my sisters who learned to do it. Although, I’ve only made one myself.”

The woman reached over and pulled the grinning doll off the shelf and climbed down the ladder. She cradled the doll in her arms like a child and walked up to Hermione. “This one. My only masterpiece.”

“Who is it supposed to be?” Was the first thing out her mouth. She never took her eyes off the doll who was still grinning up at her with those endless eyes.

“My sister. Her name is Bellatrix.” She answered.

“Um, I don’t mean to pry or anything, but she seems a bit different from the others.” She said. Realizing what she said made her backpedal a bit. “I don’t mean that in a bad way or anything.” Hermione added hastily.

Narcissa only chuckled. “No, it’s alright dear. I’m well aware. Dolls like these are made in the likeness of the living; expression and all. Bella didn’t want to be made into a doll. She wouldn’t sit still when I was making her and now here we are.” The woman sighed. “A shame really. I warned her that her doll would sit on these shelves forever if she didn’t behave. No one would want to buy such a sinister looking thing after all.”

The woman was right. Unless some eccentric collector came in looking for something a little out of the ordinary, Bellatrix would’ve been passed over time and time again. Even Hermione wouldn’t have noticed her had the thing not been peeking around the rotund doll sat next to her. It was sad in a way, and oddly enough, Hermione felt herself feeling _pity _for the inanimate object. That was around the time she thought about what brought them to where they are now in the first place.

“Earlier you said that one of the dolls was laughing. You didn’t mean this one by any chance right?” She asked.

Surprisingly, the woman started laughing. “No, that was just a joke. Look up there.” She pointed to where the doll was once sitting. There was an air vent on the wall. “It leads out to the back where the restaurant employees next door like to take their breaks. The owner sometimes answers her phone back there and her laugh has always been loud. I usually tell customers it’s coming from Bellatrix to give them a scare.” She giggled delicately. 

The woman felt relieved by the answer. “Oh! That’s so clever. It definitely worked on me.” Hermione said, joining in on the laughter. She looked down at Bellatrix. “Um, may I hold her perhaps?” She asked.

“You may. Here.” She passed the doll to Hermione who held it carefully at arms length.

Up close with the thing, Hermione found herself smiling. Aside from how creepy it appeared at first, there was a lot to like about Bellatrix. Her hair was wild and bouncy, almost like the curls atop her own head. Her corset was tight and defining, something that you wouldn’t really find most women so casually in every day life. If these dolls were made in the likeness of their model, she wondered if the real Bellatrix out there was wearing something similar. The image in her head made her blush, though she found she needed to know anyways.

“Your sister, what is she like? Does she wear corsets too?” She found herself asking

Narcissa nodded, gesturing for the woman to follow her back through the bookshelves as she described what type of woman her sister was. “Bella has always been temperamental. Of the three of us, she was always the one to act first and speak never. Unless it was taunt someone of course. She really needed to watch what she says to people. Especially her family members.” She looked down at the doll in the younger woman’s arms. “Then perhaps she would be helping me in the store as usual instead of just being a doll on a dusty shelf.”

Hermione could tell there was some familial tension between the two women. Perhaps a falling out over something to do with the store that made Bellatrix up and leave. Suddenly the weight of the doll in her hand felt heavier. She hated seeing siblings fight. It must’ve been bad for Bellatrix to up and leave. At least Narcissa wasn’t as mad as she seemed to be. Why else would she keep the doll of her sister otherwise? It was sweet. Secretly, she wanted to ask what happened between the two. To ask where her sister ran off too, but she didn’t want to pry into another person’s family matters. Especially someone she just met not even a hour ago.

So she kept quiet and followed Narcissa over to where Luna was standing; a pair of charms in her hand.

“Oh good, you’re done. I think I found the perfect gifts. Look!” She said, showing Hermione a necklace and bracelet she found. The woman went on and on about he properties of what they did and the meaning of each charm. She was excited about the find and Hermione couldn’t help but match the other’s smile.

When she was done, her blonde friend pointed at the doll still cradled in her arms. “Are you buying that?” She asked.

Hermione completely forgot she was still holding Bellatrix. “Oh no, I couldn’t. It’s important to Narcissa and I was just holding her for a while.” She turned to the woman in question. “Here, sorry about that.” She tried to hand the doll over.

Something glittered behind the store owner’s eyes as she gazed down at the doll. She then shook her head and pushed the doll back into Hermione’s arms. “Why don’t you take care of her for me. Free of charge. You seem the responsible type and I’d rather know she’s going to a good home than gathering dust on my shelves.”

Surprise washed over her. “Really? Are you sure? Won’t Bellatrix be mad when she sees you gave her doll away?”

Narcissa chuckled darkly. “She already knows. And it would serve her right after what she did.” The woman went behind the register and rifled around beneath the counter. She popped back up with a silver and green box. “These are a few clothes I made for her a while back. I’m sure she’ll be grateful if you changed her clothes every once and a while.”

Hermione took the box and juggled it and the doll with great care. “Wow, thank you. This is so unexpected. I’ll make sure to take good care of her. It won’t be a problem at all.” The young student told her, clutching Bellatrix a little closer to her chest.

Narcissa smirked at the grinning doll. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. If you’re ready, I’ll ring you up for the charms and let you both be on your way.”

Gifts in hand, Luna and Hermione left the store and waved goodbye to Narcissa; promising to come visit her really soon. Together, the women walked down the street and back to the bus stop where they were dropped off earlier. Luna promised to wrap and hide the gifts for Ginny at her house. Her and Harry visited Hermione too often for them not to somehow stumble upon the presents before the wedding. Hermione was fine with that, and she knew that as Luna got off the stop closest to her house, their presents were in good hands.

Speaking of hands, Hermione’s were currently wrapped around the waist of the doll on her lap. Idly, she’d begun drumming her hands on the tight corset wrapped around it and wondered why she was so attached to the porcelain marvel.

She was never one for dolls really. That was more of her mom’s thing. With that being said, when Narcissa said she could keep Bellatrix, she was overjoyed. The doll was beautiful. And despite the creepy grin, after looking at it for so long, Hermione found herself growing fond of it. It was so different from the person Narcissa set her sister out to be. She wanted to meet the real woman. Wanted to know if she was a spitfire like her sister said or if she was more like the doll; a devious individual who grinned like a cat with a canary.

Speaking of cats, it suddenly hit her that she would have to keep Crookshanks away from the doll. She loved the smushy faced thing, but if he destroyed her precious gift, he was getting dry food for the next two weeks.

Her stop came up and she pulled the bell, picking up the box of clothes in one hand while the other held onto Bellatrix. Stepping off into the cold was jolting and she found herself sprinting towards her house before she caught a cold.

“Geez it’s freezing out there. Well at least we’re home now. Welcome to my house I guess.” She said to the doll when she burst through the front door. Her shoes were kicked off at the door and she placed the box on the kitchen table before walking over to her bed. She placed Bellatrix on top of her red and gold blankets and began changing her clothes.

The studio apartment she lived in was small, but cozy. The student was grateful that her parents were kind enough to help pay for it all. She couldn’t imagine what life would be like if she had to work on top of going to what seemed like her infinite amount of classes. Luckily, she didn’t have to worry about that. So long as she got good grades- something that had never been an issue all things considered- her parents were happy to cover her. They were the best and she couldn’t ask for a better mom and dad. She would call them after she got out of the shower.

Scantily clad in only her bra and panties, Hermione strutted about the house picking through her closest for something comfortable to put on. She came through with soft white pajamas and a pair of fuzzy blue socks. The woman was about to enter the bathroom and clean herself up when she noticed that her apartment seemed a bit quieter than usual.

Something was missing.

Or more like someone.

“Crooks?” She called. Nothing. She grew worried. “Crookshanks?”

She started looking around the house for him. There were a few hidey holes he liked to hide in, mostly in the kitchen and the bathroom, but he was in neither of those places. “Crooks, this isn’t funny! Get out here right now!” She yelled.

_Hiss. _

She paused and looked towards her bed. Bellatrix was sat on top, blank black eyes staring her down from her relined position on her pillow. Another hiss broke out from that direction. She approached the bed and dropped to her knees, pulling back the overhanging blankets. A sigh of relief. “There you are. What are you doing under here?”

Crookshanks was under the bed, crouched in the darkness with his illuminating eyes staring out with terror. She frowned deeply. Reaching out to pull him out. It only resulted in the cat backing farther into the corner and away from worried hands.

“What’s gotten into you?” She murmured.

She tried luring him out a few more times, but it was clear that the cat wasn’t going to move anytime soon. Hermione sighed and pointed at her pet with irritation. “Fine, you stay right there, but if you wake me up at hell o’clock in the morning, I’m taking you to the shelter.”

The woman pulled back, using the bed as leverage to pull herself up. Her head peeked up above the edge of it.

And came face to face with Bellatrix.

She screamed and fell on her arse.

Heart beating a mile a minute, she could only look upon the doll with trepidation. There was no doubt that she had placed the doll near the center of her bed. Even by some freakish wind blowing through, the doll shouldn’t be at the edge of the bed.

Sitting _upright._

Carefully, she stood on her feet.

The doll didn’t move.

She approached it carefully, hand outstretched as she prepared to take off running if the thing so much as twitched. When she was close enough, Hermione gave the doll a shove.

It fell back on the bed limply, black eyes staring ahead, unmoving.

She poked it again.

Nothing.

“Jesus.” She sighed with relief. A hand was pressed to her forehead. “Maybe I’m running a fever and hallucinating things. Better take that shower.” She murmured, heading back to the bathroom...

Immediately, she returned to the bed and picked up Bellatrix, placing the doll in the center of the bed and tucking her into the spot where Ron used to sprawl out when they were together. She tucked it in tight and placed an open book over her face.

There would be no mistaking things if it moved this time.

Feeling a bit better, if only slightly, Hermione went to take her shower, never noticing a frightened Crookshanks sneaking into the bathroom before she closed the door and started her nightly routine. It was a bit early for bed, but Hermione had classes in the morning and she was exhausted after the couple of scares she had earlier. Bed seemed like the perfect plan right now to get her mind right.

She was obviously hallucinating since the doll was still in the exact position she had left it once she was finished drying off and had slipped into her pajamas. So sure that it had all been in her head, the woman slipped into bed next to the doll on her side of the bed and easily slipped off to sleep.

In the morning, she would remember that she forgot to call her parents, too deep within her dreams to think of anything else.

A sleep so deep that she failed to hear Crookshanks violently hissing over on the windowsill; his frightened yowls accompanied by gleeful cackling coming from the doll laying next to his master…


	2. Corset Doll: Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i finally finished. Go easy on ya girl, it's my first real smut scene like ever! ToT Am babby! Please enjoy some Bellamione goodness!

**Corset Doll: Part II**

* * *

Though Hermione didn’t hear Crookshanks anger the night before, there was no avoiding it come the morning. Even if she set her alarm to wake her up, there was no need for such a thing. Crookshanks leapt on her bed and began scrambling about in anger. Hermione popped awake with a jolt, screaming and flailing as she tried to get the fat cat off of her. He leapt from her bed and bolted to the living room area, scaling his cat tower and hiding in the castle replica with angry eyes.

“Crazy cat! What is _wrong_ with you!” She hollered groggily. The woman huffed and sat up from her bed. A glance at her clock told her that she still had a good hour before she even had to be up and start getting read. She flopped back down and placed her arm over eyes. “Urgh, _really_ Crooks? There’s no way I’m going back to sleep now.”

By the time she settled back down, her alarm would be wailing for her to get up once more and that was not what she wanting to deal with this morning when she already knew what day she was about to have.

Today, her first class was chemistry with Professor Snape.

And _Ron_.

How the man was able to get into the course remained a mystery to her to this day. She knew he wasn’t an idiot, but Snape was a menace on a _good_ day when it came to his workload. Ron being allowed in this many weeks in was nothing short of a miracle. Or the fact that Harry often shared his notes with him.

And Harry got most of his notes from _her_.

The spite in her heart wanted to cut the chain off completely, but she knew that she could never do that to Harry when she knew how hard the man was struggling with school and juggling two jobs. He needed to pass and Hermione knew it would break her heart if she allowed him to fall behind in order to spite Ron. Still, she didn’t want to see the man today and was leery on going to class after the craziness that happened yesterday.

Speaking of said craziness…

She flipped over.

…

“Nope. Nope, nope, nope, _no.” _She said, springing from the bed and clear across the room.

Bellatrix’s grinning face was watching her the whole time, mocking her fear with sharp, shiny teeth.

Hermione was not amused in the least. She was _terrified_. And for good reason.

Because unless Crookshanks grew hands all of a sudden, or some weirdo had snuck into her studio in the dead of night, she was about one hundred percent sure that her doll was haunted.

Bellatrix was sitting up in the bed again, untucked from the blankets she had practically suffocated it with.

And the book?

Well what was _left_ of it was spread across her bed in tattered pages, an open marker laid out on the pillow where the doll once laid. Across them, written in what was probably the worst cursive she’d ever seen, was a short message.

** _Wakey, Wakey, Wake Me Too_ **

She had no idea what it meant, but she also wasn’t ready to find out either. She scowled at the doll and pointed at it with shaky hands. “I am taking you back to Narcissa _right _after class.” Hermione promised.

The doll did nothing.

It never seemed to, but she was quite sure it could.

Hermione approached it with caution and picked it up. Bellatrix slumped limply in her arms, and no amount of gentle shaking or prodding would make it do anything else.

Did she really _want _it to?

Yes and no, she realized as she sat it back down on the bed, watching as the little thing flopped over onto its side.

For a while, Hermione just stood there and watched. Waiting to see if it would move. If it would laugh- because now she knew that Narcissa was on complete _bullshit_ with that lie she told about the vent. It didn’t, and Hermione sat next to the doll and flopped over to lay next to it. She pulled at the strings of its corset, noting the tightness and intricate lace that made it up. Vaguely, she thought about the box that sat in the room over with the other clothes in it. Should she switch out Bellatrix’s clothes? Was that why Narcissa gave them to her? As some sort of way to appease whatever the hell was possessing the thing? She didn’t know, but it wouldn’t hurt to try anyways. Hermione still had half an hour before she should start getting ready for class anyhow.

With determination, she got up and waltzed over to the box given to her by the older woman. Bringing it back over to the bed, she set it down next to Bellatrix and opened it up. There was so much inside. Dresses, skirts, blouses- and of course- a unique variety of corsets. All of them looked expensive and well-made. Either Narcissa was a sewing prodigy or the woman was _loaded_. These weren’t clothes you would just put on any doll. Yet somehow, looking at the pile before her, she felt these were exactly the types of things a woman like Bellatrix would wear. She never met the woman, but she would like to think that the smirk across the doll’s face could only come from someone who oozed confidence and desired the finer things in life.

It made her want to meet the woman even more.

Hermione spent a good ten minutes piecing together an outfit, all the way down to the undergarments. Eventually she came up with something she thought was nice and began undressing the doll to switch out its old clothes for new ones.

It was…embarrassing to say the least.

For one, the knowledge that there may be something possessing the thing was enough to set her teeth on edge. A blush tore through her as each layer was removed; black eyes staring up at her the entire time.

Then her cheeks ignited even further when she realized that Narcissa had been…_thorough _in getting the doll’s anatomy down as well.

She kicked it into overdriving in redressing it.

When she was done, Hermione couldn’t help but smile down at what she threw together.

Bellatrix was now dressed in a red and black corset with four buckled straps climbing up around her shoulders. The front had five buckles that were there more for aesthetics then pulling the clothing together. That had to be done in the back. Honestly, she was lucky she was doing this on a doll and not a person. Tying up the strings on the back of the dress was tedious. She had to hold the doll between her thighs to hold it still so she could have free use of both her hands. It was the hardest part of the whole thing, but once she saw the end results, she realized it was perfect. The patterned fabric looked stunning against Bellatrix’s pretty, pale skin. She slid a pair of lacy, black panties up the dolls legs and covered it with a long black skirt. Some stockings went up next, secured to the doll’s thighs with garter belts she found at the very bottom of the clothing box. She completed the legs with some leather boots with heavy buckles running up the front and sides. Feeling there were still some accessories missing, a pair of black gloves with translucent backs were added to her hands. Last but not least, a silver necklace shaped like a serpent was wrapped around her neck; a gleaming green emerald sparkling under the light of the rising sun. Hermione left the hair as it was, knowing it would be torture to try and comb through if it was anything like her own.

Overall, she was really pleased with what she had done, even going so far as to praise her own work in the end. She lifted up Bellatrix beneath the armpits.

“Aren’t you a pretty sight?” She practically cooed. Then she remembered what she was talking to and gave a nervous laugh. “For a possessed doll that is. That being said, you’re still going back to Narcissa later on.” She promised.

That was the last interaction she shared with Bellatrix that morning. She spent the rest of the time gathering her class materials and getting dressed. Hermione filled Crookshank’s water and food bowls; the cat not even acknowledging them in leu of staring Bellatrix down across the room. She hoped he would be fine with the doll there by his self.

When she was all prepared to walk out the door, she turned to the doll and sat it down at the center of the bed, fully prepared for it not to be in the same place when she got back. That should unnerve her more, but so far, Bellatrix had only been slightly creepy. It hadn’t really done her or Crooks any harm and she wasn’t going to try and provoke it by doing something drastic either.

Like locking it up in her dresser with all the heaviest items in her room blocking it from opening.

Drastic.

Hermione didn’t end up doing that however. Instead, the woman left Bellatrix on her bed and gave her a stern look as she laid down the rules. “I don’t know if you’re listening- or if I’m crazy for even talking to you- but I’ll say this anyways. Don’t destroy my studio. Don’t touch my cat.” The woman barked at the thing.

It did nothing.

Hermione sighed and headed towards the door. “Behave yourself.” Was all she said, the words directed at both the doll and Crookshanks crouched over in his cat tower.

“_Hehehehe_.”

She heard the same laugh from Malfoy Manor and there wasn’t a single vent in her studio.

“NO!” She yelled, leaving and slamming her door behind her. “I will deal with that later. No. I should give it to Ginny. She would have a _field _day while all I’m getting is high blood pressure. This day can’t get any worse.” Hermione groaned as she power walked her way to class. The hope of a easy day prying at her thoughts…

* * *

She didn't get her wish.

No door deserved the abuse Hermione’s was suffering through today. She had slammed it in fear when she left earlier, but upon returning, it was thrown open and close with nothing but unbridled rage. The sound scared Crookshanks off the kitchen counter and back into his cat tower, a hiss on his breath at her abrupt entry. She would have apologized if she hadn’t only one goal in mind at the moment. The woman threw her stuff to the ground and stormed over to her bed.

Bellatrix was sitting on her side table and the sight made her do something that she knew was out of character for anyone knowing they were in the presence of a possessed doll.

…she ignored it.

Instead, the woman grabbed her pillow and began _screaming _into it.

“Selfish, ungrateful, smug, red-headed _idiot_!” She yelled. “So stupid! Why did I _date_ someone like him!” Her tirade went.

She spat, punching her pillow in anger at the thought of what had happened earlier.

The moment she stepped into class, she knew that it was going to be a terrible time. For one, Harry hadn’t been in today, having to take off to take care of his parents on the other side of town. That meant that she was down a chemistry partner for the day and she didn’t have anyone else to pair up with today except the one person she didn’t want to deal with.

Ron.

It was a disaster from the start.

The man started with the most awkward hello he could possibly muster. They hadn’t spoken really since the break-up, so this was the first time they had directly interacted in a while. She remained civil though, even answering his greeting and getting their supplies for the experiment. It was going fine until he tried to make small talk. Asking her how she was and whatnot. She knew he was doing it out of guilt. Especially when he asked about Crookshanks.

He hated her cat since day one and the feeling was mutual.

Hermione didn’t answer him and that probably made things worse. Embarrassed, the man spent the remainder of the class tip-toeing around her and making a mess of their work. Before she could finish adding the last of the HCl to the mixture, Ron decided he wanted to help. He reached over to grab the beaker, but in doing so, his long gangly arms knocked over the other half of their experiment. There was no saving it, but Hermione had to quickly turn off their burner or risk a stray spark falling onto their table and causing a real disaster.

Flustered at his blunder, Ron tried to salvage the situation with a slew of apologies and promises to make up for the grade they would no doubt lose because of this. She realized that he would not be able to make good on them for the simple fact that Snape came over and slapped a giant zero on both their worksheets and kept moving along.

Needless to say, she was furious, but it was what happened _after _class that had her at home screaming into her pillow as she was.

Lavender Brown.

Hermione knew the moment she saw that pink bow bouncing on top of the other woman’s head come around the corner, she was not going to leave this place in a good mood. Lavender approached them whilst Ron was still trying to apologize and it sent the other into an unnecessary jealous rage. She waltzed up to Ron and started spouting off cutesy baby names and asking about how his day had went. Hermione rolled her eyes and left. It would’ve been fine had she not tripped and fell over a stray rock on the sidewalk.

Lavender laughed.

And so did Ron.

It was quiet, and so quick that anyone else would’ve missed it. But Hermione had heard that laugh for the past four years and knew it well.

The pain of the concrete scrapping against her skin hurt far less than hearing that sound that used to warm her heart.

She fled after that, never looking at the couple as she gathered her things and made her way back to her house and ended up where she was now.

“So stupid.” She murmured into the pillow once she was done yelling, simply cradling the thing to her face as angry tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Hermione didn’t know why she simply didn’t let them fall. It wasn’t like there was anyone around to see her-

_Thump. _

She shot up at the sound of something heavy hitting the floor behind her. Upon looking, she saw that it had been Bellatrix falling off her side table. Hermione scrambled to flip over and peer over the side of her bed to look at it.

The doll was splayed out, just as motionless as always.

By now, she knew that this was no accident. Her fan was off and the thing had been sitting far enough back that it wouldn’t have fallen off on her own. It unnerved her, but no more than the fact that she wasn’t as bothered by it as she should be.

Hermione picked Bellatrix up. She stared at it before chuckling softly and pulling it down to her chest in a warm hug. It was…confronting. There was literally no reason for it to be, but holding the pretty thing in her arms was distracting her from the day she had. This was far crazier than having to deal with her ex and his horrid girlfriend. Perhaps that’s why her next actions ended up causing such a large ripple in her life.

“Maybe I’ll keep you for a little longer.” She whispered into the doll’s hair. Fatigue was making her sleepy as it was and there was still another four hours before her next class was supposed to start. A nap wouldn’t be so bad right now, she thought as she began drifting off to sleep.

She had only enough strength to set her alarm before she started dozing off; Bellatrix still in her arms as she did so…

* * *

When she opened her eyes, two things caught her eye and they were both clutched in the hands of the doll sitting on top of her chest.

Hermione was frozen as she processed what she was seeing.

She was on her back staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom. A pressure on her chest made her look down and see that she was no longer clutching Bellatrix in her arms. The doll was in a position that no amount of movements in her sleep could explain.

For one, she was sitting with her legs crossed like a pretzel; her body leaning forward to stare down at what was once Hermione’s sleeping face.

Yet more startling than its position was what it was holding in it’s clenched fists.

Fists she knew shouldn’t be able to close like that.

In it’s left was a handful of Hermione’s hair. Thankfully, it was still attached to her head, but the fact that the doll appeared to be holding it to its face- almost like it was _smelling _it- set her teeth on edge. Hermione was sure that if she moved her brown locks, that smug little grin would be there to mock her once more.

In it’s other hand was a folded piece of paper. She recognized the handwriting from earlier and could smell the ink of the marker from where she laid. It was easy to read what was on the front.

** _Wakey, Wakey, Wake Me Too. _ **

They were the same words from that morning and she still didn’t know what they meant.

But…she was ready to find out.

Hermione pulled her hair away from the doll’s hand, relieved when it was let go with ease. She wasn’t looking forward to playing tug of war otherwise. A hand cradled the doll on her lap as she pulled the note from its hold as well. As she expected, it was folded up and the heavy ink bleed through to show something else was written on the inside. She opened it up and read it.

** _Move unseen_ **

** _Speak unheard_ **

** _Eyes will block you from the world_ **

** _If your owner sets you free_ **

** _Doll to flesh you soon will be_ **

** **

“Um. That…sounds really suspicious.” She said. It was then she saw something scribbled even sloppier than the other writing at the bottom of the paper.

** _TaKe _ ** **My EyEs _or_ ThE cAT dIES. **

She nearly flung the doll across the room. “Don’t you dare!” She hissed at it in anger. Crookshanks was her everything. The house would be far too lonely without his presence. That being said, there was something about potentially freeing whatever spirit was in the doll that made her want to cut her loses now and run to Malfoy Manor.

But…what if it came back?

The doll has proven time and time again that it could move.

What if it came back?

It knows where she lives.

What if she angered it and it took its revenge on not only Crooks, but _her _as well?

That would be _terrible_.

All the bravado she had been building up when it came to Bellatrix suddenly drained away. It was fine thinking that the thing was content to just move about and laugh at her. Now…now things seemed like they were getting dangerous.

She wanted the doll _gone_.

And there seemed to be only one way to make that happen.

_Take my eyes. _

“I have a bad feeling that means literally and I’m not okay with that.” She said beneath her breath as she held the doll in her hands. “But if that’ll stop all this, guess I have no choice. I swear if you start screaming when I do this, I’ll toss you out the window.”

The two pits of black stared up at her blankly, the only think reflected in their complete blackness being Hermione herself. Hesitant hands reached towards the left one. She shuddered. Although the eye was nothing more than a glossy black button, she felt weird reaching for it. The realism of the doll made her feel like she was digging her fingers into another person’s eyes and it was freaking her out. Still, she persisted. Her nails dug into the Bellatrix’s face, gripping the edges of the black orb and _pulling. _

It popped right out.

And behind it was _another eye. _

A normal one. Not like the inhuman looking sclera that covered it, but a honest to god _human_ looking eye. It was still black, but it was just the pupils and not the whole thing. Her stomach twisted. Seeing what was beneath had her really wondering if she should call the police and see what Narcissa was doing behind those heavy dark doors of her shop.

Because this wasn’t normal. Nothing about this was normal in the _slightest. _

Including herself, because despite all her worries and fears, she ended up pulling the second fake eye out as well. The woman didn’t know what she was expecting from doing so. The frantic howls as a ton of ghost flew out of the doll’s mouth. A creepy voice telling her that she was cursed for a thousand years. She was even prepared to get her soul sucked out of her body with a straw. Yet none of those things happened and her heart stopped trying to escape from her chest.

With a meek smile, Hermione blinked at Bellatrix.

And Bellatrix blinked back.

…she hurled the doll through the open bathroom door.

“Oh my god! What the hell!” Hermione screamed, ducking and scrambling beneath her bed. It was her first time that she had actually _seen _the doll move and she didn’t think seeing it would make it seem so much more real. It _did_. Which meant she hadn’t been living a fever dream up until this point and everything that had been happening wasn’t just in her head.

Which also meant she just hurled a vengeful spirit into her bathroom like a cheap mug from a thrift shop.

Hopefully she could make it to Crookshanks and out the door before she was ripped apart.

Terrified, Hermione shifted to get out from under the bed.

_Snap. _

She stopped.

_Snap. Snap. Crackle._

A slew of horrifying sounds were coming from her bathroom. Cracks like the sound of breaking bones and the wet sloshing of something poured out into her bedroom in rapid succession. A thump came soon after, followed by a pained moaned from what sounded like a woman.

Then footsteps.

Hermione put a hand over her mouth and tried not to scream as a pair of boots came into her line of sight from the bathroom. She recognized them. They were the same ones that the Bellatrix doll had been wearing earlier. The ones she put on it.

Watery eyes watched as the boots paced back and forth in front of her. There was a sound of the intruder sucking on their teeth and then she watched as the spirit circled around the bed with large, brisk steps. Then she heard nothing…

Until her screams came barreling out of her mouth as hands grabbed her legs and _yanked _her out from her hiding spot. She flailed about, kicking and yelling as she tried to fight off the person pulling at her legs. She was dropped, but only because she was being grabbed under her ribs instead. Next thing she knew, she was picked up and thrown onto her bed. A huff left her chest as she landed on her stomach. She tried scrambling away towards the other side of the bed, but she found herself pinned down as her hands were held above her head. It smushed her face into the mattress, making it nearly impossible to breathe. In the end, she had to crane her neck to the left so she could breathe, the moment she could being the only time she could speak properly.

“Get _off_ of me!” She hissed as aggressively, bucking like a horse as she tried to get her attacker off her back. It was useless.

“Hehehe.” They laughed.

_She_ laughed.

Hermione knew that laugh. It sounded almost the same as the doll, though there was noticeably a much huskier sound to it. There was a shift on her back as two strong thighs caged her into place. Warmth covered her spine as the woman on top of her leaned down, her lips tickling the back of Hermione’s neck, breast flush against her shoulder blades.

Then finally, for the first time, Hermione heard her speak.

“Now, now. I think I’m _owed_ this. After you’ve had your _filthy _little hands all over me this whole time. Don’t you think so _Hermione_?” She cooed. A hand came around to poke at her cheek as the woman giggled in her ear playfully. “Undressing me. Staring with those pretty brown eyes. Such a naughty girl I’ve ended up with.”

Fired ignited in Hermione’s cheeks as she sputtered to deny what the other was insinuating. “First off, I don’t even know who you are! How did you get in my house?” Her voice shouted, still muffled slightly from being pressed into the mattress.

The woman scoffed. “You _let_ me in. Though I suppose a proper introduction is in order.”

That was all the woman said, before Hermione found herself flipped over onto her back; the woman now straddling her stomach. With the change in position, she was now able to look at the other properly.

It was Bellatrix.

But not the doll.

The woman looked every bit like the doll- even down to the clothing Hermione had dressed it in just this morning- but the woman before her was very much a living, breathing human. Her skin was still that pretty porcelain, though Hermione could see a couple of wrinkles and scars that weren’t as noticeable before. That grin she had come to know wasn’t nearly as big, but it was clear that the same playful smugness wasn’t just for show. Bellatrix was all grins as she stared down at Hermione, yet the younger woman found herself drawn from that thin lipped mouth and up towards the other’s eyes.

Those black orbs looked far less menacing when they were attached to a regular human being, and they were crinkled with mischief as Bellatrix trailed them over Hermione’s body pinned beneath her. She blushed, and that sent the other woman into another fit of giggles.

“My, my. What a _delightful _little vixen I’ve been saddled with.” She cooed. “My name is Bellatrix Lestrange. Though you already knew that. My _lovely _sister had so much to say about me after all.”

“She really didn’t say much. Especially that her sister is a doll.” Hermione frowned. “_Was _a doll?”

Bellatrix actually snarled. “_Was_. Cissy, that _witch, _threw a little fit a few days back. Quick to throw out insults but could never take them herself.”

“What could you have _possibly_ said to make someone turn you into a doll- wait, your sister’s a _real_ witch!” Hermione suddenly yelled with stunned eyes.

Bellatrix removed her hands from pinning Hermione’s above her head. Too overwhelmed with everything happening, Hermione couldn’t even muster the strength to lower them. Instead, she kept them as is, though they almost shot down in a panic when Bellatrix suddenly placed both of her hands over Hermione’s flat stomach.

“She is, in more ways than one. We got into a spat. She insulted my work; I said she could never even _wear_ one of my dresses with how much weight she’s put on from having my nephew, Draco.” The woman idly prodded at her navel.

“That…that _was _rather mean.” Hermione said meekly.

“As was calling your ex a- what was it? _Selfish, ungrateful, smug, red-headed idiot. _Besides, she insulted my work.” Bellatrix pouted, idly pulling at the fabric of Hermione’s shirt.

The younger of the two felt her cheeks warm as she remembered her rant from earlier as she verbally tore into Ron about that whole ordeal with Lavender. She still wasn’t over it, a hiss tearing into her as she thought about her ex. The sour taste in her mouth was beginning to return. Before she could fall back into her anger, she decided to derail the conversation to something far more interesting.

The mystery that was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Even before she knew the woman was a doll- which was _still _blowing her mind even now- she couldn’t help but wonder what the woman was like in person. And then here she was. Hermione knew she didn’t want to waste the opportunity. “Your work. What is it exactly?” She asked Bellatrix, genuine curiosity coating her voice.

No amount of darkness could dull the shine in Bellatrix eyes at Hermione’s question. Something shifted in the other’s demeanor then. The playfulness Bellatrix had been exuding up until now turned wicked, her smiles more sultry and her movements more purposeful. Hermione’s body went taut as the hands on her stomach raked down over her waist and towards the v of her pelvis. Her eyes never left Bellatrix’s. They stayed locked onto hers the whole time, silently wondering what she would do next. It was pointless, since even _Hermione _didn’t know what she wanted to do now.

At least that’s what she was telling herself. Cause there was one thing that the younger woman knew right off the back, and that was she didn’t want whatever this was to stop.

She was _very _invested to see where this was going.

Those wandering hands didn’t go where she was hoping- _thinking_! They bypassed her lower half and returned to Bellatrix where they landed to the woman’s own shapely figure. “You’re looking at it. Cissy inherited Malfoy Manor from our father. Andy is a stay at home mother. _I_ on the other hand desired more. So I made my own business. _Laces of Lestrange; _dresses and corsets handmade by yours truly.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “You _made _this!” She gasped. She could've sworn Narcissa had. Unconsciously, her hands had rose to lay across the front of Bellatrix’s corset, right over the older woman’s stomach. “It’s beautiful.”

Bellatrix seemed to preen at the comment. “_Naturally_. I take my job very seriously, wearing my craft with pride. I’ve yet to meet another who has looked bad in something I’ve made.”

A hesitant laugh came from Hermione. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’d look very good in something like this.”

“No. You wouldn’t.” Bellatrix said. Hermione was hurt by the comment for just a moment, though the negative thought flitted away when Bellatrix continued. “Doesn’t compliment that pretty brown hair of yours. Absolutely not. Something lighter. Lavender? _Disgusting_.” The woman began muttering quickly beneath her breath. “Blue? Not a dark one. Such pretty shoulders, a shame to cover them with straps. Something simple. Shapely. Might need to pull it _tight_ if I go a size up. I should have a few with me. Should fit just fine. _Although,_” The woman’s gaze rolled down to rest upon Hermione’s confused expression. “I’ll need to take some _measurements_…” She trailed off.

“Umm? What exactly are you- _doing_!” She yelped when gloved hands dived beneath the green sweater she wore out of the house earlier. Strong hands gripped the cloth tightly before yanking it up and off of Hermione, leaving her only in her black bra. She scrambled to cover herself with her hands from Bellatrix’s heated gaze. “What do you think you’re doing!” Her voice squeaked, blush burning hotly on her face.

A hand ran down the length of her flat stomach. “Measurements.” Bellatrix said, as if saying such a thing explained the sudden grabbiness of her hands.

The woman leaned forward and stroked up and down the length of Hermione’s ribs, the softness of the gloves causing her to shiver with something pleasurable. She felt her body relax as the soft strokes started luring her into a sense of comfort. Though the feeling was soon swept away by desire as those wicked hands dipped beneath the sides of her bra and began to _pull_.

Hermione was…lost.

This was an unexpected development. Honestly if anyone told her that she would be in the position she was in now a few days ago, she would’ve laughed in their face. Everything was so unreal. She apparently met a real witch when she was shopping for a wedding gift and took her sister home that she thought was just a pretty doll. And said sister was currently sitting on top of her with deliciously curious hands and a sharp lip smile that was making the wetness of her jeans too prominent to ignore.

She tried thinking logically that she should stop this. She’d never been with a woman, the thought never having crossed her mind before. Ron was her first and only. ‘And look where that got you.’ Her thoughts harshly reminded her.

Were they harsh? A part of her thought so. It got her stuck with hurt feelings and bitter emotions whenever she was in the other man’s presence.

But, it _also _got her where she is now.

And looking at the situation, at the woman above her, and how she was feeling _now_ in comparison to how she felt when she walked into her studio earlier…

It was enough to make her slowly arch her back off the bed and allow Bellatrix to remove her bra with ease. The shit eating grin she received made it worthwhile, she idly thought to herself. Her quiet receptiveness seemed to encourage Bellatrix and the gloves finally came off.

Literally.

Bellatrix wasted no time in removing the gloves from her hands, throwing them over her shoulder and onto the floor, before diving down and locking her lips onto Hermione’s neck. A gasp escaped her throat. Warm hands glided up her sides and massaged themselves into her breasts. The soft mounds were taken in hand like they were made of the finest treasure; Bellatrix kneading them skillfully with confidence as she chuckled hotly into the side of Hermione’s neck. Hermione moaned, hands digging into Bellatrix’s sides to bring her down closer. She could feel the other smiling into the skin of her throat.

“_There_ she is. The meek little kitten shows her claws.” The woman cooed, nipping just beneath her ear.

Hermione scoffed softly. “I’m not meek.” Her whisper came out little more than a couple of breaths.

“Oh? Then _show_ me.” Bellatrix challenged.

And who was Hermione to deny her.

The younger woman grew bold, pulling Bellatrix away from her neck and up towards her lips. Fire ignited in the pit of her belly as she fought for dominance in their kissing. She’d made out with Ron a few times, often the other letting _her_ take charge in their couplings. He said it was ‘incredibly hot when she took control’. Hermione didn’t mind back then. She had enjoyed it. _Immensely_.

That being said- it seemed that Bellatrix was _nothing _like her ex. For one, the moment Hermione believed she had the upperhand in their gnashing of lips and tongue, Bellatrix shot a hand flying down into her trousers and pressed upon her heat. She was forced to pull away and Bellatrix used her free hand to flick over her left nipple that was standing at full attention with her arousal. Her chest was beating a mile a minute, and while Hermione herself felt like a hot wired mess, Bellatrix still looked well put together and smug. Had it been Ron, she was sure the expression of overwhelming confidence would without a doubt kill her mood.

But on _Bellatrix_?

It was a good look.

“Ah, ah, ah. Didn’t say I was going to make it _easy_.” The woman cooed. The older woman began rubbing circles around her clit, causing Hermione to moan deeply. It was quickly becoming a losing battle.

Then again, with the heat building up within her navel, she couldn’t honestly say that this was a loss.

That being said, she _was _at a disadvantage. Whereas her trousers allowed for the woman on top of her to get at her easily enough, she had dressed Bellatrix in what was probably the most inconvenient skirt she possibly could. The dark fabric was the only barrier keeping her from having at the other woman just as she was. Even when frantic hands reached to free the woman of her garments, Hermione couldn’t quite find the zipper that held it up on her waist. Thankfully, Bellatrix decided to show her mercy.

With a chuckle, she pulled away and got off the bed. Reaching behind herself, Bellatrix easily slipped the skirt down her legs, letting it pull on the floor at her feet. She also removed her boots, but kept her stockings. Hermione thought that she would remove the rest of her clothes, but that wasn’t going to happen it seemed. Instead, the woman reached down, and in a surprising display of strength, the woman yanked her trousers off and left Hermione in nothing but her own black panties. They were rather plain in comparison to Bellatrix’s own lacy ones, but the other woman didn’t seem to mind given the fact that those greedy hands were looking to do nothing more than get them off of the younger woman. Nails scratched at her hips when Bellatrix reached for the last barrier keeping her modest. Soaked and sodden, the older woman removed them slowly, eyes locked onto Hermione’s with a hunger that had her practically burning for more of the woman’s attention. She didn’t have to wait long for her wish to be fulfilled. Bellatrix was back upon her, lips to her neck, chest to chest as she chuckled hotly into the junction beneath her chin. Scalding hands pressed her hips into the mattress.

“Ah, meek once more. What a _pity_. No matter though.” She cooed. Her lips touched Hermione’s ear; her hand brushed over the younger woman’s folds, the touch sending electricity up her spine. “It’s been a while since these hands have made anything wonderful.” A well place flick had Hermione moaning loudly. “And what’s more _wonderful_ than making a _mess_ of such a pretty girl?”

As if Hermione had the brain power to answer that right now.

The moment the woman’s finger entered her, she gasped sharply and tried to muffled the moan with her other hand. Useless, since Bellatrix used her free one to link their fingers together and pin the appendage above their heads. “Not happening dear. As if I would be satisfied with just your surface arousal. I want to _hear _you. Hide yourself from me again, and I’ll make sure you won’t be going to class later on.”

If that was suppose to be a threat, then Hermione wanted to make it a _promise_.

The student didn’t try and free her hand from the other woman’s grip, but she did duck her head down to seek out Bellatrix’s lips once more. They were locked in battle once more, Hermione choosing to simply relax as the woman took control of their coupling. The hand between her legs grew more bold, two nimble fingers quickening as Hermione felt that familiar heat building up again. Her breathing came out in uneven pants as Bellatrix worked her over. At some point, she had raised her leg to hook over the woman’s back, pushing her body even closer to her own. She was lost in her pleasure, so much so that it was unfairly easy to ignore the numerous belts and buckles imprinting into her flesh from the woman’s coreset. With Bellatrix straddling her other leg, Hermione could feel the woman’s warm arousal pooling in her own lacy panties. Hermione moved her leg slowly between Bellatrix’s; the woman grinding down on it to seek her own pleasure as she was providing Hermione with her own.

They were fully and truly entangled together in a mesh of needy limbs and burning flesh.

“_Yes_.” Hermione moaned between kisses.

“Tell me.” Bellatrix smiled. “Tell me what you want.”

There was only thing she wanted. “_Faster_.”

Bellatrix obliged happily. Her fingers went ever faster, thumb rubbing at her clit ferociously as the woman brought Hermione ever closer to her peak. She could no longer keep her cool. Her moans were unhinged and primal as Bellatrix brought her closer to the edge. Her body squirmed with pleasure, and despite the fact she wanted to do nothing more but grab and pull at the woman’s black hair surrounding her head like a dark halo, her hands were currently occupied at the moment…

Hands.

As in _plural_.

If she wasn’t on the brink of madness from her encroaching orgasm, Hermione might’ve laughed hysterically about the fact that she did in fact possess _two_ hands. One was obviously locked into place above her head by Bellatrix, but the other had been idly playing with the fabric of woman’s panties on her hips. She wondered if Bellatrix had noticed because _she_ certainly didn’t up until now. Though that moment of lucidness was just what both of them needed. Hermione didn’t grab at the black curls like she wanted to. She decided on a more productive location.

Bellatrix was right. Surface arousal wasn’t enough. That notion didn’t really hit her until she reached down and slid her hand in between the spot where the older woman was grinding against her leg. The resulting hiss of pleasure was music to her ears. Bellatrix’s eyes were two burning pits of black that bore into her being with satisfaction upon her extra participation. It was Hermione’s turn to smirk.

“Tell me what you want.” She threw back at the woman, a decent rendition of the other’s earlier words. Not nearly as impactful as when Bellatrix said them seeing as she was a panting, breathy mess, but the message was well received.

“I’ll _show_ you.” Bellatrix purred.

She could’ve choked the woman when she pulled her fingers away from her quivering folds, the anger of being left just on the edge of ultimate pleasure had her moments from showing Bellatrix just how _filthy _her mouth could get. Bellatrix must’ve known this as well, for she leaned down and captured Hermione’s lips in a kiss that was both teasing and far less aggressive than any of the other’s they had shared before.

“Just a bit of buildup love.” She let Hermione’s hand go only for the sweaty palm to swiftly slap the side of her arse. The sting made her yelp, but did nothing to cool the fire in her stomach. “Worth it, seeing as I get to see such a desperate expression. Tell me kitten; you want more? Want me to send you over the edge?”

There was no hesitation.

“Yes.”

A smirk. “_Good_.”

Hermione was no blushing virgin. She and Ron had gone at it plenty of times in their relationship to the point that very little could phase her.

That being said, Ron had been her first and only. A vanilla type of guy who was more concern with his own pleasure before she could reach her own. _If_ they even lasted that long.

She wasn’t with Ron right now.

She was with Bellatrix Lestrange.

The similarities weren’t even comparable.

Whereas Ron was hard muscles and big hands, Bellatrix was his opposite. She was soft in all the places Hermione could only remember muscle being. Her hands weren’t big like Ron’s, but they were stronger. More…dexterous. No doubt years of expertly pulling and tying corsets had the woman’s hands trained for many a situation.

Like driving woman like her _mad_ with pleasure.

Bellatrix didn’t need instructions on how to fire Hermione up. They barely knew one another, what with the other being a literal _doll _the majority of their time together. Still, in spite of this, the woman was capable of making Hermione see stars with the way she made her move. She treated her body like she no doubt treated her life’s work.

Carefully.

Thoroughly.

And of course to be expected of someone who had to work with steel boning and the tight crisscrossing of laces-

A little _roughly. _

She hadn’t known true excitement in the bedroom until she’d been partially moved onto her side, strong arms grabbing hold of her leg and inner thigh as it was thrown over Bellatrix’s shoulder. Hermione could only watch in utter jubilation as Bellatrix hooked a hand into the side of her own lace panties and _pulled. _The delicate fabric unraveled and tore with ease, the woman not even sparing them a glance when she threw them to the floor where her skirt laid.

“Sweet mercy.” Hermione said breathlessly at the display.

She thought she had said it quiet enough, but it seemed that Bellatrix had heard her anyways. The woman chuckled, turning her head slightly to lay a kiss upon her leg in a surprisingly intimate gesture. It was enough to make her blush despite the fact that she was also laying there so open before the other’s eyes. Bellatrix’s smile only grew wider.

“So easily pleased.” She cooed with half lidded eyes.

Hermione couldn’t comment on that. Not when it was clearly so true. It was only solidified further when the woman practically glided forward, wet folds sliding along her other leg laid upon the bed as she locked them together. Hermione did a full body shudder when Bellatrix pressed their clits against one another. The heat and slick comfort of the other’s womanhood was almost too much to bare. There was no way they could move any closer than this even if she wanted to. And she _desperately _wanted to. It was perfect, or what she _thought_ was perfect anyways.

True perfection came when the woman rolled her hips deliciously down into her. Decorum escaped her.

“Fuck.” She hissed, gripping her pillows as she turned her face into the fabric of her bed. Bellatrix was practically glowing with pride, her mischievous nature on full throttle as she rolled her hips again.

“You like that kitten? Look at you. Such a pretty little morsel.” One hand remained holding her leg up while the other reached forward, inheritably causing Bellatrix to have to lean further into her and causing her to moan loudly. The moan would’ve been lost in the comfort of her pillow if the reason for Bellatrix leaning forward in the first place wasn’t to grip her chin and turn her head back towards her. Her smirk was downright _nasty. _“Did you just try and _hide_ again? Naughty girl. I _warned_ you.”

She did.

Hermione wasn’t trying to heed her warning in the slightest.

Not when disobedience had Bellatrix setting a pace that had her practically hollering. If Hermione didn’t know any better, she would’ve sworn the woman had been waiting for this. The enthusiasm being displayed right now to driving Hermione mad was far too intense for someone who hadn’t been holding back up until now. Bellatrix set a brutal pace, grinding into her with a ferocity that was matched by the words spewing from her lips. Hermione was only half listening to the other’s words, vaguely hearing how she was both a filthy cretin deserving punishment and simultaneously a pretty little minx who needed to be rewarded handsomely.

She didn’t care which she was.

She’ll gladly be whichever one got Bellatrix to finally bring her over the edge of pleasure the fastest. And she was oh so close; something her rampaging thoughts felt needed to be said aloud.

“Yes, please, let me-,” Her words were cut off abruptly when Bellatrix relinquished her hold on her chin to thumb at Hermione’s clit with reckless abandon. She was done for. “Fuck, _yes. _Let me cum.”

“What’s _that_? Couldn’t hear you over all that moaning _Hermione_.” The woman crooned. “Who are you talking to?”

‘An asshole!’ Hermione’s mind snarled upon hearing the woman’s teasing. It wasn’t what left her lips though. “You.” She whispered hotly.

“Say it.” Bellatrix growled. “Say my name and I’ll end your torment, kitten.”

It was an easy enough demand. Three syllables. Eight letters. She’s said it a dozen times by now, so it should’ve been second nature.

It wasn’t.

The heat of everything had fried her thoughts completely and as such, the nickname she’d yet to have said out loud slipped out like it was first nature.

“Bella, _please_ let me cum!” She wailed desperately.

Judging from the look on the other’s face, it wasn’t he response she was looking for, but she’d been damned if she’s seen someone looked more over the moon than Bellatrix at that very moment. The woman didn’t stop her gyrations even when she latched her lips onto Hermione’s; a whisper against her panting breath.

“Let go for me, love.” She rasped.

Hermione’s orgasm hit her _hard. _Her scream was only muffled by Bellatrix’s mouth as her legs shook from the contractions. Hot juices spilled from her as she met her peak. A moan flowed back into her mouth from Bellatrix herself as she reached her own; the evidence of their coupling mingling together on her bedsheets. Bellatrix collapsed halfway on top of her, face hidden in the crook of Hermione’s neck as they both stopped to catch their breaths. A pleased rumble was felt against her jugular as Bellatrix nibbled at her lazily.

“Bella?” She teased.

Hermione couldn’t see her face, but she still glared up at the ceiling. “Hush. You’re the one who keeps calling me kitten.”

“I like cats.” Her voice said offhandedly.

Silence.

And then Hermione burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Her sides were hurting something fierce as she shifted about on the bed, jostling Bellatrix and making the woman roll off of her. Bellatrix didn’t get off the bed, simply propping her head up on her hand as she watched Hermione continue to laugh to herself. “Pardon me if I’m missing the joke here.”

Hermione wiped a tear from her eye and pointed over the woman’s shoulder. “You literally threatened to kill my cat earlier. I find that hard to believe you like them.” She giggled.

Bellatrix glanced behind her to see Crookshanks staring at them angrily from the shadows of his cat castle. Neither of them needed to understand the language of cats to understand that the feline was still just as displeased with Bellatrix as a human than he was when she was a doll. The corset maker turned back to her with a raised brow. “That doesn’t count. That isn’t a cat. It’s a mongrel.”

She swatted at the woman weakly. “Don’t call Crookshanks a mongrel. He’s delicate.”

“So am _I_.”

“Hardly.” Hermione countered. “Someone who willingly goes around wearing tight, chest breaking corsets all the time doesn’t really come across as someone who’s ‘delicate’.”

Bellatrix shot up, sweaty hair clinging to her forehead as she glared down at Hermione. “Chest _breaking_?” The woman hissed.

Hermione turned to lay on he stomach, not caring about her arse being on full display for the woman sitting up next to her. She shrugged. “Last time I was put in one of those things I had sore ribs for an entire week. That and it was hard to breathe. I don’t get how you wear them all the time.” She nodded at the one Bellatrix was still wearing throughout their energetic romp just now. “How can you even breathe in that right now?” She asked in awe.

Bellatrix sucked air through her teeth. “Years of experience.” She scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up, turning to Hermione with her arms crossed over her chest. “Which is why just looking at you I can tell you tried one of those one-size-fits-all _monstrosities_, didn’t you?”

She did. It was for a Halloween party and she had gone as a sexy pirate. The corset had come with the costume and the whole outfit would’ve looked off had she not put it on. Probably one of the biggest regrets of her life. Hermione refused to meet the other’s eyes which told Bellatrix all she need to know. She scowled.

“Get up.” She turned away and began searching her room for something. Hermione was confused.

“What? Why do I-“

“Up. Now.” Was all the woman said.

Bellatrix was lucky that she was stilled blissed out of her mind and feeling surprisingly obedient at the moment. Hermione stood up in all her naked glory, arms over her chest more so out of habit than hiding. She watched as Bellatrix rummaged about her room looking for something, only stopping when she found it.

The it was the box of clothes Narcissa had saddled her with when she gave her Bellatrix as a doll. Except it was no longer a small box fit for a doll. It was now a full sized trunk, all the contents inside retaining the size for an adult-sized person. How considerate of her sister to have spelled her clothes as well. Considerate when you take away the fact that she turned her sister into a doll in the first place over a sisterly spat that is.

Bellatrix rifled through the box, mumbling beneath her breath until she found what she was looking for. The woman turned to her with a measuring tape and Hermione had to cover her mouth to stop the laugh threatening to flow from her lips. “Let me guess. _Measurements._”

“Clearly.” Bellatrix barked, doing exactly that.

“Is it? Does taking people’s ‘measurements’ often lead you into their bed?” Hermione sassed.

It probably wasn't best to taunt someone whilst being completely naked. She had no protection when Bellatrix harshly swatted her backside whilst taking her waist measurement. Her blushing glare was met with smugness as the woman kept doing her work like nothing happened. “I see your bravado only returns when you’re not a mewling mess. Guess my work isn’t done just yet then.”

Oh, Hermione hoped not. What she was coming to find was that the woman’s threats often brought worthy rewards. If this was to be another of them- a hint that their romp wasn’t a one off occasion- then she was fully prepared to call the woman on it. Her refraction period ended and had her aching for a round two.

She didn’t ask for it though. Not yet. Hermione was more curious as to what the woman was up to now. Numbers were rattling off as she let Bellatrix run her hands over her body as she pleased. It was strange, the change at which the woman now touched her. It wasn’t a burning heat that would lead them down a road of pleasure and lust. This was a different passion. A passion for one’s craft. Bellatrix hadn’t been lying when she said she took her work seriously. The moment she had all her numbers laid out, she returned to her box and began weeding out the ones she felt didn’t fit Hermione.

“Too dark. Too dark. _Lavender_. No straps. Dark. Far too _tight_. One-size-fits-all she said. _Disgusting. _Ruins the _figure_. Chest breaking. Only an idiot ties it that tight the first time around. Needs to be a size up. Such a lovely waist.” She pulled a green one out and held it up to Hermione’s chest. Bellatrix snarled and threw it on the bed and out of the way. “Green, is fine, but not too much. She’ll look like a tree with that hair. Which one will…_ah_.”

She pulled one out that seemed to meet the woman’s criteria. Hermione quietly observed as she pulled and turned and tested the corset from every angle. When she saw all she needed to see, Bellatrix whipped around to her. “Arms up. Back _straight_, and for heaven’s _sake_ if I catch you holding in your breath like some kind of sycophant, I’ll have you knelt on this bed with cheeks redder than my lipstick.”

Should she tell the woman to work on her threats better? Hermione may actually try listening to them if they actually sounded like punishment. Nevertheless, she did as she said, if only because she didn’t want a repeat of the last time she tried on a corset. That pain was no joke and as much as she seemed to enjoy going against Bellatrix, in this instance, she decided to behave. Bellatrix slipped the blue fabric over her head and down to her waist, pulling it closed at the back. The front didn’t have buckles like Bellatrix’s did. Instead, it had a black zipper that laid just inside the folds to have the two halves meld seamlessly together. She pulled that up first before circling to the back and grabbing hold of the laces. “Relax.” Bellatrix murmured in her ear. She felt the woman do up a few rows before a hand came around front to press against her ribs. “Too tight?” The woman asked.

Surprisingly no. It was pretty comfortable. Even when the woman had her completely done up in the back, Hermione didn’t feel that horrible ache in her ribs that she remembered from so long ago. Tight, but not suffocating. By no means did she think she could think she was comfortable enough to move around like Bellatrix did in hers, but she wasn’t moving like an absolute robot, so that was good. Hermione looked down at it. She loved it. Not as elaborate or heavily buckled like Bellatrix’s, the corset was pretty straight forward. Strapless and shapely, the ocean blue was dazzling even beneath the limited light of her room. Vines and flowers colored in an array of greens, reds, yellows, and oranges encompassed the entire thing; delicate and stitched perfectly around one another. Hermione found it mesmerizing.

“It’s beautiful.” She gasped. Brown sparkling eyes searched for Bellatrix’s gaze. “Bellatrix this is absolutely wonderful.” Her praise came out in waves as she moved and twisted in the garment.

“Indeed.” Bellatrix said. Hermione was observing herself and missed the way the other woman wasn’t looking at her own creation at all, but rather the individual wearing it. Satisfied with her handy work, Bellatrix laid back down on the bed. Head propped up on her head, curls pooling onto the pillows, the store owner crossed her stocking clad legs over one another on her side as she lazily looked at the still enraptured Hermione. A smirk fell across her lips as something playful entered her gaze. “Quite a sight indeed. Shame I can’t look upon it a bit longer.” The woman cooed idly.

Hermione stopped ogling her wardrobe to stare at the lounging woman, confusion marring her face. “You’re leaving?” She hoped the disappointment wasn’t too obvious in her voice.

Bellatrix’s mirth grew. “No, I’m _quite_ comfortable where I am. Perfect view to watch you _panic_.”

Nothing processed at first. It was only when she happened to glance over at the clock on her nightstand that the realization set in. She no longer had four hours to get to class.

She had _half_ an hour.

“_Shit_!” The frazzled woman yelled. Hermione started racing around the room looking for her clothes, all the while scrambling to get the corset off as well. The zipper came down easily, but she couldn’t loosen the strings enough to slide the thing off completely. Bellatrix was having a laughing fit upon the bed as she hopped and contorted to try and free herself. It was a loosing battle and she had to admit defeat and practically beg the woman to get her out of it. Deft hands released her of her bonds and Hermione grabbed her regular clothes up off the floor. She hurried to the bathroom. A quick hop in the shower and she could be on her way.

Or so she thought.

She saw it out the corner of her eye in the reflection of the mirror. Horror filled her gaze.

She saw red.

No, not from anger.

From _lipstick_.

Happy, red smudges of pigment covering just about every part of her body from her neck down to her leg.

From the comfort of Hermione’s bed, Bellatrix’s smudged lips cackled with glee upon hearing Hermione’s screeching over the sound of rushing water. “Dammit Bellatrix! You _leech_!”

She was a very _proud_ leech. Hermione knew that from the moment she caught the other’s trailing eyes following her every move when she got out the shower. Her hair was going to have to be a mess today, the wild tangled mess too much work to fix at the moment. The student rushed around the room, gathering her school books and keys and phone to throw in her bag. Only when she was all packed up did she address Bellatrix again. “Don’t destroy my studio. Don’t touch my cat.”

They were the same orders she gave Bellatrix earlier when she was a doll. Something fond tickled her heart when she got the same laugh from earlier as well.

“How _naughty_. Trying to keep little ole me hauled up in your bed like this.” She pretended to look shocked. “How _scandalous._”

Hermione gave her a dry look, pointing at the ripped undergarments by her feet. “Pot meet kettle.” She headed towards the door. “A bit hard to call someone scandalous when you’re still laying on sodden sheets. At least change them before I get back.” She called over her shoulder.

The laugh that followed sent tingles up her spine. “Now why would I do _that_?” Bellatrix called across the studio.

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled her front door open. “Because they’re _dirty_.”

She shouldn’t have said anything. At the very least it would’ve saved her grades later on down the line. After all, there was only thing she’d be thinking about in class today upon hearing the woman’s words as she lounged their half naked in her bed.

“And they’ll get dirty _again _when you come home.”

Hermione snapped to look at Bellatrix, mouth agape.

She was met with the sweetest smile as she glanced just in time see Bellatrix arched off her bed, double jointed arms skillfully untying her red and black corset _behind her back _as if she was untying a shoe.

“Don’t be late now.” Bellatrix called seductively.

Hermione slammed her door for the umpteenth time that day, going full sprint to class as Bellatrix’s words rang through her head on repeat. She tried to keep her mind focused, tried to keep it together as she frantically fought to keep her perfect attendance. Looking back on it further down the road, she should’ve known right then and there how bad she had it for Bellatrix.

Because on that day, Hermione Granger kept her perfect attendance and made it to class on time as usual…

…only to ruin it the next day when Bellatrix made good on promise and she ending up with her very first absence in her college career.

It was an embarrassing story that a drunken Hermione would tell Ginny and Luna only on the eve of the former’s bachelorette party.

A tale that could hardly be believed of their studious friend, had she not been telling it whilst sitting in the lap of her girlfriend.

Hermione spent most of the night hiding her face in the crook of Bellatrix’s neck as her friends ganged up on her for the remainder of the evening; the teasing growing worse upon everyone’s realization that Bellatrix was much to her dismay; a chatty drunk.

And a _handsy _one.

Hermione was only upset about one of those facts when they returned to their studio later that evening.


End file.
